


Tell Me This Feeling Lasts Till Forever

by lco123



Series: Slow Burn [2]
Category: Teenage Bounty Hunters (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Post-Canon, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:33:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28943010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lco123/pseuds/lco123
Summary: Now, though, now April is turning eighteen. An actual adult. And her dad is officially out of her and her mom’s life, while Sterling is sitting on her bed, staring at April like she just hung the moon.So maybe this birthday will be better.Sterling is determined to give April a wonderful birthday. Lots of fluff.
Relationships: April Stevens/Sterling Wesley
Series: Slow Burn [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2094087
Comments: 16
Kudos: 123





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I will, eventually, get back to the Long Shot fic, I promise! But I had this idea for an April birthday fic followup to But I'm a Fire, and while I thought it would be a one-shot it's turning into something a bit longer. Not sure how many installments it'll end up being, but here's the first one!
> 
> Title is from "Suddenly, Seymour" from Little Shop of Horrors, and you better believe I've been singing the song to myself as "Suddenly, Sterling" since deciding on the title, because I'm nothing if not a musical theater nerd.
> 
> Also April's mom is named Paula in this world.

“Sooo,” Sterling drawls at the beginning of the month, sitting up from the spot on April’s bed where she’s been studying for the last hour. “What do you want to do for your birthday?”

April turns from her desk chair, where she insisted on sitting, not trusting herself so close to Sterling on a bed when she has actually important homework to complete. Her stomach rolls with familiar anxiety at the question, one her mom has asked in various tones of voice (pity and concern, mostly) throughout the years.

April’s birthday is always something of a mixed bag, a stark reminder of her lack of genuine friendships; of the daughter her parents imagine her to be rather than the one she actually is. This is reflected in the presents she receives—usually new clothes she hates and books she’s already read and something _Star Wars_ -adjacent but a little too girly from her dad. The house is typically filled with either girls April despises spending time with, or just Ezequiel and Hannah B., depending on April’s energy for a charade that particular year.

April’s seventeenth birthday was her worst by far. Her dad was back and majorly overcompensating, ordering a ridiculous catered meal from his (not April’s) favorite restaurant and buying her a diamond necklace that her mom swiftly announced would need to go in the family safe. April didn’t invite Ezequiel and Hannah B. over, because her paranoia was at an all-time high and she really couldn’t handle her mom giving weird knowing looks at Ezequiel all night, much less her dad’s commentary about “that fairy boy” the following morning.

Plus, she was hardcore pining for Sterling, which wasn’t anything different, but was made exponentially worse by the new information about Sterling’s apparent side job of turning in wayward fathers, and of April’s inability to forget the way she kissed.

Now, though, now April is turning eighteen. An actual adult. And her dad is officially out of her and her mom’s life, while Sterling is sitting on her bed, staring at April like she just hung the moon.

So maybe this birthday will be better.

“Um,” April replies. “I honestly hadn’t thought about it.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“I just want you there,” April answers truthfully, and she would shy away from the vulnerability of that statement if it weren’t for the way Sterling’s cheeks flush a bit.

Sterling scoots forward toward the edge of the bed, gesturing April over to her, and as always Sterling’s like a magnet, pulling April right in. April stands up from her desk chair and sits down in front of Sterling, Sterling’s arms immediately wrapping around her from behind, chin snuggling into the crook of April’s neck. April’s hands cover Sterling’s around her waist, holding her firmly in place, Sterling’s smell pleasantly invading her senses, and they’ve been together for nearly two months but still the inarticulate thought that comes to April in these moments is always, _God, this is just so nice._

“I had an idea,” Sterling says against her skin. “And if you’re not into it, that’s absolutely fine, but just hear me out.”

“Okay,” April agrees, stomach curling in a much more pleasurable way at the thought of Sterling cooking up ideas just for her.

“I asked around, and apparently Hannah B.’s mom will be out of town that weekend.”

“I don’t want a house party, Sterl.”

“No, I know that,” Sterling replies, squeezing her a little tighter. “You’re not a house party kind of girl. But I was thinking maybe you and me and Blair and Ezequiel and Hannah could just, like, hang out. And um.” She presses a lingering kiss to April’s neck. “We could spend the night.”

April laughs. “Like my mom would ever go for that.”

“It’s your eighteenth, April. You technically don’t need to ask for permission.”

“While I live under her roof, I do.”

April is expecting another retort, for Sterling to engage her in a verbal debate about this, but instead Sterling trails her tongue up the side of April’s neck, teeth scraping at the sensitive skin behind her ear, the spot that never fails to make April shiver.

As closing arguments go, it’s pretty effective.

“We can be very persuasive,” Sterling husks into April’s ear, and April can only nod, rendered momentarily speechless by all things Sterling.

She doesn’t end up getting more homework done that night.

\--

Coming out as a couple to their parents is less of a _thing_ , this time around.

April knows it will happen at some point, because she has no intention of losing Sterling again, and also because while her own mother might be willfully ignorant about why Sterling Wesley is suddenly over all the time, the Wesleys aren’t idiots, and Sterling has zero subtly.

So the question is more about how and when they’ll tell Sterling’s parents than if they will at all. But Sterling seems content for now, and April certainly is, and, well. There are certain definite pros to not being fully out as a couple. Like the ability for Sterling to chirp, “Fellowship duties!” to her parents, then drag April up to her room to make out for two hours behind a closed door.

But it surprises April that she actually does want Mr. and Mrs. Wesley to know. The idea of showing up at the Wesley dinner table as Sterling’s girlfriend fills her with an unexpected sense of pride, of delight, even. Of course there’s anxiety and dread mixed in there, too, but still. It feels miles away from the crippling panic that might have overtaken her at the thought a couple of years ago.

Her mom is a different story, more of a wildcard. Things have settled between the two of them since the immediate aftermath of April’s dad’s second arrest. They’re not close—April doesn’t imagine they ever will be—but they’re pleasant with one another. Like two slightly overly cordial roommates. And Paula’s made a few vague comments here and there that suggest she might be softening on certain political stances, so April really isn’t sure anymore what her reaction would be.

Still, though, April isn’t too eager for change. Not when her current circumstance might allow for a full, parent-free night with Sterling.

Paula raises an eyebrow when April launches into her Sterling-approved argument about why the birthday sleepover at Hannah B.’s is a good idea, but she agrees easy enough. April knows that she and her mom are in something of a stand-off at this point, since Paula forbidding the sleepover would force her to explain _why_ she doesn’t want her daughter spending the night alone with Ezequiel and a group of girls, one of whom April’s been spending an awful lot of time with recently.

April doesn’t love that a Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell policy is essentially the only way for her to spend a night with her girlfriend, but she figures she might as well lean into this weird fringe benefit of her mom’s homophobia, since there have been so few of them over the years.

She texts Sterling after, telling her the good news, and Sterling responds with a flurry of emoticons that has April grinning down at her phone for entirely too long.

\--

Sterling offered to drive April to school the morning of her birthday, but since they’re going to Hannah B.’s directly after April wanted to have her own car, and besides, she’s more comfortable driving than being Sterling’s passenger.

She drives up to the Wesley house ten minutes early and starts up the Taylor Swift playlist Sterling made her, expecting that Sterling and Blair will be running late, as always. But to her surprise, Sterling bounds out of the house less than two minutes after April arrives, tossing her overnight bag in the backseat before sliding into the passenger seat with a huge grin.

April turns down the music and regards her quizzically. “Where’s Blair?”

Sterling turns to face her. “She said she’d take the Volt. Something about wanting her own escape if the sleepover is boring and also giving us extra time to…well, she did a hand gesture that I’m _not_ going to imitate.”

April bites her lip, overcome with a wave of fondness for Sterling and distantly for Blair. Before she can say anything Sterling presses a quick kiss to her cheek, whispering, “Happy birthday, babe.” She shifts back against her seat, adding, “Now why don’t you drive away from my house so I can give you a proper birthday greeting.”

April doesn’t have to be asked twice. She drives them to a spot about three blocks away, a secluded little area under some trees that’s become their resident place for impassioned goodbyes before April drops Sterling off at home. Usually they end up in the backseat, or April climbs into Sterling’s lap, but today Sterling scrambles over the center console as soon as April’s put the car in park.

“Careful!” April warns, because the last thing they need is Sterling knocking against the horn and alerting any passersby to their presence, but Sterling is already moving the driver’s seat back to provide more room before angling her body precisely, avoiding the steering wheel completely as her knees come to bracket April’s hips.

April’s arms wrap around her automatically, hands running up the back of Sterling’s polo shirt. She’s not used to this position, not used to Sterling hovering over her instead of the opposite, not used to feeling Sterling’s weight settle on top of hers, but she likes it. She really, really likes it.

Sterling smiles down at her, reaching to the side of April’s seat to push them back more without even looking for the lever. April quirks an eyebrow at her.

“Not my first time,” Sterling says by way of explanation. She huffs out a small laugh. “This is actually _very_ reminiscent of when I lost my virginity. Though you’re considerably shorter than—” April feels her other eyebrow shoot up, and Sterling winces. “Sorry, probably shouldn’t bring that up right now.”

April senses something rising in herself, the same feral something that comes to the forefront during debate tournaments and lacrosse games, a quality that she typically tries to tamp down with Sterling outside of sex. Normally there’s very little effort required to do so; one look from Sterling and April is typically melting.

But now, well, Sterling just went there, and April figures a little less self-control is warranted on her birthday, so she shakes her head, saying with exaggerated calmness, “It’s okay.”

“Really?”

April nods. “Absolutely. Remind me, though, would you: said first time was with Luke?”

Sterling frowns, because obviously April knows the answer, and April can hear the prosecutorial tone in her own voice but she really can’t be bothered to adjust it. “Um, yeah?”

“Right. And you guys had sex how many times over the course of your relationship?”

“Why do I feel like I’m on a witness stand?” Sterling asks, but April can see a grin threatening to poke through.

“Just answer the question.”

“Six.”

“Six, right. And how many orgasms did you have during those six times?”

Sterling rolls her eyes. “You’re impossible.”

“That’s not a number.”

“You know the answer!”

“I do,” April agrees. “And over the course of _our_ relationship thus far”—her voice gets a little softer saying those words, and Sterling clearly notices because her eyes light up a bit more—“how many orgasms would you say you’ve had?”

“You know, the dictionary could honestly just replace the definition of the word ‘smug’ with a picture of you.”

“Oh, I don’t think I’m being smug,” April replies loftily. “I’m merely a fan of statistics. So, what number would you put? Too many to count?”

“I’m surprised you don’t have a running tally,” Sterling quips.

“Well, even I have to draw the line somewhere.”

She tilts her head up toward Sterling’s, expecting a kiss, but instead Sterling whispers against her lips, “Jealousy is not a good look on you.”

“Really?” April whispers back, pressing one hand against Sterling’s racing heart. Sterling’s lips part, then she lets out a shaky exhale as April’s hand lowers just enough for her pinky to trace over Sterling’s nipple, which April can feel stiffening even through two layers of fabric. “Why’s your heart beating so fast, then?”

Sterling shakes her head, gripping the back of April’s neck to crash their lips together. She threads her fingers through April’s hair and jerks April’s head up a little roughly, getting a better angle as she licks into April’s mouth. April matches her passion, sucking hard on Sterling’s lower lip before nipping at it, hands sliding up Sterling’s shoulder blades to hold her as close as possible. Sterling groans, rocking her hips down against April’s, and April can’t help but smile into the kiss, even if it makes her mouth a little clumsier.

The surge of desire gives way to something a bit sweeter, the kisses growing slower and less hungry but just as dizzying. Sterling loosens her grip on April’s hair to cup her cheeks, kissing her softly a couple more times before pressing their foreheads together. They’re both breathing raggedly, and April feels a little slack-jawed.

She blinks a few times before pulling back just enough to look into Sterling’s eyes. “You know I’m teasing you, right?” she says quietly, hearing the rawness in her voice, all haughtiness drained away.

Sterling swallows, her expression rather vacant, like cohesive thought is almost too much right now. April is so overcome with fondness and pride that she darts her mouth up to quickly press one more kiss against Sterling’s lips, drawing back before Sterling can deepen it further.

Sterling pouts for a second before nodding, hands looping behind April’s neck before she finally manages to reply, “Of course. Poor Luke basically ceased to exist once I figured out I was into you. I mean, he romantically ceased to exist. I still care about him.”

“I know you do,” April acknowledges, because she’s made peace with the fact that Luke will always matter to Sterling in some fashion.

“Plus, y’know, I _was_ totally jealous about your childhood crush that one time, so. I can forgive you for being needlessly competitive.”

April grins up at her. “Competition is never needless.” She moves one of her hands off of Sterling’s back to the side of her neck, thumb sweeping across her jaw. “Especially when it turns you on so much.”

Sterling rolls her eyes again but doesn’t deny it, turning her head to press a kiss against the inside of April’s wrist. “Happy birthday,” she murmurs. “I’m really excited for tonight.”

“Me too.”

“I love you.”

Sterling says those words to April so often, they’re practically punctuation at this point. She never sends April off to class without a whispered “ _I love you_ ,” never ends a text exchange without typing out the words, never seems to make it through sex without gasping the phrase into April’s shoulder.

But the frequency doesn’t lessen the impact. Every time Sterling tells April she loves her, April feels it all the way to her toes, warmth tugging low in her belly.

“I love you too,” she replies without hesitation, and then she realizes with regret what time it must be. She checks her phone to confirm, announcing, “And we’re supposed to be leading Fellowship in fifteen minutes.”

“Duty calls,” Sterling grumbles, pressing a last kiss to April’s cheek before swinging back into her own seat. “We should probably fix your hair.”

April laughs, free and open, wondering briefly what it would be like if she left her hair as it is, messy from Sterling’s touch; if she and Sterling were to walk into school hand-in-hand. The idea, she realizes with startling clarity, is so much less terrifying than it used to be.

But today is not that day, so she lets Sterling help smooth her hair back into a ponytail, luxuriating in the sensation of Sterling intentionally scraping her fingernails against April’s scalp as she does so.

They hold hands the rest of the drive to school, Sterling delightedly singing the lyrics to "Lover" in April's direction.

When they arrive at Fellowship, Blair takes in April’s appearance with a smirk, remarking, “I like the untucked shirt, Stevens. Very casual Friday Young Republican. Cutting taxes for the rich over happy hour margaritas.”

April can’t even muster up a quippy response or force herself to feel anxious over the callout, she merely raises an eyebrow at Blair and finds her seat. Sterling leads everyone in singing her “Happy Birthday” at the beginning of the meeting, and somehow it isn’t nearly as embarrassing as it should be.

April knows that she stares at Sterling the entire time with an enormous grin on her face, but she really, truly, cannot imagine looking anywhere else.


	2. Chapter 2

“I cannot _wait_ to see the look on Stevens’s face when she opens my present,” Blair remarks as they’re packing up after Bible study.

Sterling looks at her sister with mild alarm, noticing the way Blair’s grin is slipping into a smirk. “Oh no, please tell me it isn’t something completely inappropriate.”

“She’s turning eighteen, Sterl. Inappropriate would be buying her an American Girl doll.”

“Aw, remember our American Girl dolls?” Sterling replies with a nostalgic sigh.

Blair laughs, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Uh, yeah, how can I forget? Mom still has that weird shrine to them in the attic.”

“It’s not a _shrine_ , it’s a display case. It helps preserve them.”

They step out into the flow of students making their way toward lunch, and Blair scowls at a dude who dares step between them.

“It’s fucking creepy, is what it is.”

Sterling ignores that, momentarily losing herself in a memory of a simpler time, before Luke and bounty hunting and earth-shattering family revelations. “Sometimes I miss playing with Kit. Is that weird?”

Blair considers that before shaking her head. “No weirder than most things you do. I still think it’s fucked up that Big Daddy and Mother wouldn’t buy me a Rebecca doll just because she’s Jewish.”

“That’s not why—”

“It absolutely is why. Instead I got aggressively white Molly,” Blair argues. “Also, I feel like we maybe should have figured out the bi thing earlier. Kit is objectively the gayest doll.”

“You think?”

“For sure. A tomboy who’s obsessed with baseball and Amelia Earhart?” Blair’s eyes go wide like it’s obvious. “I mean, not to stereotype, but c’mon.”

“Well, to be fair, April also had a Kit,” Sterling acknowledges.

“Oh yeah! And didn’t you guys have, like, a weirdly complex and historically accurate story about the two of them running off together, even though they might have been the same person?”

“Yep.” Sterling can’t help but grin as she recalls long afternoons spent playing with their dolls in the sun-dappled Wesley living room, Blair bristling at April’s insistence that their make-believe stories remain period appropriate, while Sterling just tried to keep up with April’s intricate ideas.

“That’s _gay_ , dude,” Blair says knowingly.

“Yeah, I guess so. April was all, ‘Just because we’re playing doesn’t mean we can’t be factual.’ And then she’d spout off everything she knew about the Great Depression.” Sterling remembers how after one particular playdate she insisted on checking out four books about the Great Depression at the library, just so she could impress April with her knowledge the next time they played together.

“Fucking weirdo.”

Sterling shoves her sister’s arm. “It was really cute!” she insists. “I was always so mad that her Kit’s hair was so smooth.”

Blair barks out a laugh. “Sure, you were mad that _Kit’s_ hair was so smooth.”

Right, Sterling realizes with dawning understanding. She really wasn’t so focused on Kit’s hair, after all. “Good point.” She snaps her fingers. “Wait, we totally got off the topic of April’s present. You distracted me on purpose!”

Blair puts up her hands defensively. “I just don’t want to ruin the surprise!” She squeezes Sterling’s elbow, leaning in close. “Don’t worry, you’ll like it too.” Her voice has that self-satisfied quality to it, and Sterling feels herself blush as her mind whirs with possibilities.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m afraid of.”

\--

Sterling knows that April likes control. She loves April’s strong will and opinions, her conviction and self-assuredness. She loves that when she pushes April, April pushes back. It’s such a contrast to being with Luke, who was all too happy to let Sterling run the show, even when it didn’t serve either of them.

Still, though, Sterling sees the places where April needs to—and is, to be fair, attempting to—loosen her grip. Being in love is wonderful and thrilling and undoubtedly one of the best things to ever happen to them both, but it’s also messy. And Sterling knows April isn’t a fan of mess.

They’ve both been working on themselves in the time they’ve been together. Sterling is trying really hard to be patient and to listen, to not always presume that her way is the only way. And April, for as much as it doesn’t come naturally, is really attempting to communicate rather than assume. To trust that other people might, occasionally, have her best interest at heart.

Which is all to say that Sterling has been genuinely impressed by April’s willingness to let Sterling plan her birthday. Certainly the distraction of waiting for her college acceptance letter(s) has taken precedence, but now that April officially knows she’s headed to Harvard, Sterling sort of thought she’d take the reins of her birthday just for something new to focus on. But in the ramp up to the big day, April has been as close to relaxed as Sterling’s ever seen her.

Sterling has maybe sort of started to take that for granted, April’s willingness to be along for the ride of her eighteenth rather than driving the car, because during lunch she can’t resist asking Ezequiel and Hannah B. about the evening’s plans with a little too much mysterious gusto.

“What’s that now?” April asks, quirking an eyebrow.

Sterling grins. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

“You’ll love it, girl. Believe me,” Ezequiel adds, winking at Sterling.

“It’s gonna be so fun!” chirps Hannah B.

Sterling feels April’s hand tighten on her knee under the table, and when she looks up April has a slightly pinched expression on her face. _You okay?_ Sterling mouths.

In reply, April announces, “I think I left my water bottle back in Fellowship. Sterling, can you help me find it?”

“You sure lose your water bottle a lot,” Hannah B. comments, as Blair makes the same finger gesture she sent Sterling off to school with this morning and Ezequiel stifles a laugh.

Sterling ignores the teasing, following April to the very supply closet where she had her first orgasm, the spot that’s become somewhat of a _thing_ for the two of them on days when it’s just too hard to make it until the bell rings before Sterling kisses April senseless. (Which is most days, to be fair.)

But today she senses a different energy flowing between them, a peculiar surge of anxiety wafting off of April. “You okay?” Sterling asks again once the door is closed.

April knits her fingers together, fiddling at the spot where her purity ring used to reside. “You’re not planning some big thing, are you?”

Sterling frowns. “No, I told you, it’ll just be the five of us.”

“I don’t like surprises.”

Sterling takes a step forward, sliding her fingers along the inside of April’s wrist. “Careful with blanket statements. When I kissed you in Ellen’s office, that was a surprise you liked.”

“Sterling.” April’s eyes actually look a little panicked. It startles something in Sterling.

“This isn’t an ambush,” Sterling promises. “Is that what you’re scared of?”

April sighs. “Birthdays are historically…tricky, for me. All that attention.”

“You love attention.”

“Not when I—”

“Not when you can’t control it,” Sterling realizes. April doesn’t contradict her. “But this is just us, like I said. People you trust. People who know you and love you.”

April scoffs a little. “Blair doesn’t love me.”

“Give her time.” Sterling can see the discomfort tugging at April as she continues to fidget. Now with Sterling’s fingers as well as her own. “What is it?”

“I’m just not…” April fumbles. “I’m not used to this.”

And then it hits Sterling: April’s never had this before; never had people who understand her enough to create something just for her. Not a version of herself that they want her to be, or a version that she was projecting, but the real, genuine April. She’s never been able to be vulnerable in this specific way, wanting and believing that someone might bother to cater to her particular desires. She’s never let herself be taken care of.

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” Sterling asks.

The blush that rises on April’s cheeks is so pretty that Sterling has to resist kissing her. “I liked it. I just wanted to enjoy it. But then you guys were talking and I was out of the loop and I felt sort of…”

“Freaked?”

“I guess so. It’s stupid, I know. It’s just a birthday.”

“It’s not stupid,” Sterling insists, squeezing April’s hands tighter. “You’re allowed to care about this. But maybe _I’m_ the one who made too big a deal of it. I just want you to have a good time.”

April smiles sweetly at her. “I know. You don’t have to make up for seventeen years of bad birthdays, though. You know that, right?”

Sterling nods, even if it’s a message she hasn’t fully internalized. “You deserve good things,” she says softly, because she thinks April might need that reminder every day.

April looks down at their intertwined hands before gazing back up into Sterling’s eyes. “This is already the best birthday of my life.”

“Seriously?”

“Of course,” April replies easily. “Because I know that you love me and because..." She angles her mouth up toward Sterling's. "I get to do this.” She kisses Sterling lightly, and Sterling wraps her arms around April’s neck, pulling her close.

She might be a little overzealous, though, because she accidentally knocks April off balance and April has to steady herself on the door behind Sterling, essentially pinning Sterling against it. Sterling doesn’t think before hooking her leg around April’s hip to hold her in place, shivering when April’s hand trails up her thigh over her pants.

Sterling tilts her head back, inviting April’s tongue to glide along her throat. “How much time do we have?” she rasps as April slides a hand under her polo, cupping Sterling’s breast over her bra.

“Enough,” April replies simply, so confident, but it’s absolutely warranted, considering that Sterling is suddenly very aware of how wet she is. It takes nothing, it seems, for April to send her to this place, needy and desperate, aching to be touched. They can transition from a serious conversation to quick, frantic sex in a matter of seconds. Sterling might be concerned if it didn’t feel so incredible.

“Shouldn’t I be the one making you feel good?” Sterling ponders, her voice sounding thin and distant, even as she starts to unbutton her own pants.

“Believe me when I say this makes me feel _very_ good,” April husks against her collarbone. “But if you want me to stop—”

“No!” Sterling gasps, hips jumping as April’s fingers find the edge of her underwear. “God, please whatever you do, don’t stop.”

“Okay then.” April rubs her thumb against Sterling in tight little circles that have Sterling biting her own lip to keep from crying out. “Happy birthday to me, then.”

“Oh _shit_.” Sterling remembers something just as April slides two fingers inside her. “I have—oh _god_ —a cupcake for you…homemade…I forgot.”

April’s laugh is maybe the sexiest sound in the world. “No offense to your baking skills, but I think I prefer this treat.” She bites the edge of Sterling’s earlobe as she increases the speed of her fingers.

“Yeah,” Sterling replies shakily, before mumbling something that’s a cross between _“I love you”_ and “ _oh fuck._ ”

Whatever it is, she’s pretty sure April understands.

\--

Sterling’s last period of the day is English, but they have a substitute and Sterling is already way ahead on the reading, so she’s told that she can work quietly in the library for the rest of the day. She practically skips to the library, ignoring the grumbles of her fellow students. April has a free period, she knows, and Sterling smiles when she finds her working at one of the tables with her earbuds in and her Spanish textbook open.

Sterling taps her on the shoulder as she sits beside her, not wanting to startle April, and then she bites her lip at the dreamy expression that comes over April’s face when she registers Sterling’s presence.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Sterling whispers as April tugs out her earbuds.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Sterling scoots as close to April as the library chairs will allow. “English sub.”

“Ah.”

“Whatcha listening to?”

“Oh!” April’s eyes light up like they do whenever she’s really interested in something, and Sterling is overcome with a wave of affection. “A podcast about the Stonewall Riots. Breaking down a lot of the misconceptions about it. Fascinating. I just started, actually. Want to listen?”

She offers Sterling an earbud and Sterling accepts. April grins, clearly pleased, adding before she presses play, “I’ve got, like, another twenty minutes of verbs to conjugate.”

Sterling nods. “I just have a little review for the chem test on Monday.”

“This won’t distract you too much?”

“I don’t think so. I know most of the chem stuff, anyway.”

So April presses play on the podcast, and Sterling lets herself be carried into the story of queer history—of _their_ history—as she works beside April, and it’s just, well. It’s just so nice. A gay man is telling her about queer resistance and Sterling’s girlfriend keeps giving her these fond little looks and their feet are pressed together under the table, and Sterling is struck with so much gratitude that she could probably cry.

They work like that for a while until Sterling senses someone hovering nearby, and when she looks up Ellen is smiling down at them. Sterling yanks out her earbud and nudges April, who quickly fumbles to pause the podcast, most likely before Ellen can hear any gay-specific language drifting out of Sterling’s earbud.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Ellen whispers. “But I just wanted to wish you a very happy birthday, April.”

April beams. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

“I remember my eighteenth,” Ellen recalls. “What a time that was. Feels like just yesterday. Well, anyway, it warms my heart to see you girls working together like this.”

“You said it yourself,” Sterling replies proudly. “We make a great team. In all sorts of ways.” She stifles a yelp as April kicks her under the table.

“Friendships are so important,” Ellen continues, oblivious. “You two are very lucky to have found your way back to each other.”

“You’re absolutely right,” April agrees, eyes shining in Sterling’s direction. “I feel like the luckiest girl in the world.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bet you didn’t expect to get into American Girl doll discourse in a Stepril fic, huh? I would like you to know that I actually looked up the American Girl doll lineup for the years that the girls would have been playing with them, and there are so many more dolls than I ever imagined. I would also like you to know that I had a Kit doll and turned out to be a raging homo, so there's some anecdotal evidence to Blair’s theory. (Still a little bit bitter that they didn’t introduce a Jewish doll until I had aged out of my American Girl phase, tbh.)
> 
> Also, the podcast Sterling and April are listening to is You’re Wrong About. Highly recommend all of their episodes, but their one on Stonewall is a definite fave.


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